#nsfw Sheith AU where they meet at a Halloween Party dressed as Galo and Lio.

The party is held at Allura's marbled mansion of a house and she sweeps down the staircase to greet Keith and Acxa: him with a hug, and her girlfriend with a decidedly less platonic embrace.

"I love your belts," Allura beams, cheeks pink with alcohol.

"Thanks," Keith says. "I like your...ears."

Acxa strokes one, kissing Allura carefully on the cheek. "You look really good, babe."

"That's Officer to you," Allura corrects.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Keith mumbles.

"Ooh, get me one!" Allura calls.

"Sure," Keith says as he leaves, desperate to get away from being the third wheel.

Pidge is here somewhere. He'll just deliver the drink and then go hang out with her and Hunk and complain about uni and the heat and the assignments they have.

Romelle is in the kitchen, chatting with Ezor.

"Aren't you a pretty Sailor Moon," Keith comments, surprising her.

"Keith!" Romelle squeals, and when he holds his arm out, she steps into it and presses a kiss to his cheek. "You're /late/."

"Acxa wanted food," Keith apologises.

"And /I/ wanted my brother for beer pong," she sniffs. Then she appraises his costume. "I'm so glad you went with Lio."

Keith shrugs. He'd wanted to come in something black and inconspicuous until his sister had twisted his arm and said if he added belts it'd be the same.

"Couldn't let you down, Romi," he says.

"You never could," she says sweetly, like the vodka mix in her hand. "Where's your drink? First not wanting a costume, now a drink?"

"I was getting one," he protests. "Allura wanted one too."

"Oh." And she pushes him at the selection.

"Don't let me hold you up!"

"You won't," Keith assures, when Ezor swoops in to poke his cheek before linking arms with his sister.

"I'm stealing her anyway," she tells him. "You're living up to your nickname, Pretty Boy!"

"Shut up, Ez," he grumbles.

The two laugh and leave.

Keith turns his attention to the alcohol. Picking a drink for himself is easy. Picking one for Allura? Not so much. She's like his sister and Lance, loving the sugary barely-alcoholic ones.

"Nice costume," a voice says.

Keith glances up, because who sounds like /that/?

The guy standing in front of him has the best jawline Keith has ever seen. The scar across his nose has a story behind it that Keith wants to know, but it's his smile that Keith can't look away from: warm, like a summer afternoon.

He's so caught up, he misses the guy's costume.

Oh.

"It's the wrong arm," he blurts out, focusing on the white sleeve over the guy's right arm.

The guy—the epitome of Galo in height and build—chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners. Keith isn't a love at first sight person, but he might be after a smile like /that/.

"Wrong hair too," the Galo adds, but Keith likes it, like he's been touched by starlight. "I tried the left. Didn't look right."

"Pun intended?" Keith checks.

"Oh, absolutely," his Galo says and arousal swoops low in Keith's belly.

He's so attractive, Keith can barely breathe.

"Seriously though," his Galo says, pulling at the sleeve, and that's when Keith notices the prosthetic arm. "Looked wrong."

Keith wishes he'd kept his mouth shut. "Ah. Yeah that explains it."

And now would be a really good time to leave and hope his Galo forgets all about this.

Except his Galo hasn't stopped smiling at him, hasn't made a move to leave. Instead he holds up a drink: something pink and fruity.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he says, a blush staining the bridge of his nose.

Keith wants to kiss it.

"But I heard Allura needed a drink."

Keith takes the offering. "If she doesn't like it, it's your fault."

His Galo grins, confident enough to make Keith desperately want to climb him. "She'll like it."

"If she doesn't, I'm hunting you down," Keith warns.

His Galo picks a beer and leans in close. "Can't wait."

Keith is left standing there, watching his Galo leave. God. /God/.

"Allura," he says when he returns to her. "Allura, who's the guy dressed as Galo?"

"She's only answering to Officer Hopps, y'know," Acxa says.

Keith pushes Allura's drink at her. "Yeah, okay. Who's the Galo?"

Acxa's tie is wrapped around Allura's hand but she reaches with her free one. "Oh, you got my favourite. How'd you know?"

"Galo said you'd like it," Keith huffs, impatient.

"Shiro?" Her eyes sparkle. "He's lovely, isn't he?

Well, 'lovely' isn't the first word Keith thought of.

"Thought you'd like him," Allura teases.

Keith doesn't know how anyone /couldn't/ like him. The guy's shoulders are so strong and his eyes are nice and his voice is beautiful. Yeah, love at first sight, alright.

"And you two match!" Allura points out, pleased. "How auspicious."

"Shiro," Keith repeats. "I gotta go find him."

"Off you go, then," Acxa says, looking every bit as though she'd like to return to making out with her girlfriend.

Keith leaves them to it.

He finds Pidge's brother Matt and his girlfriend first, dressed as Milo and Kida.

"Hey," he says, wondering if he sounds as stupidly desperate as he feels. "You guys look good."

"So do you," N says, appraising his costume. "Are you the fiery one from Promare?"

"Lio, honey," Matt supplies. "You look good, man. Nice belts."

"Too many," Keith disagrees.

"Probably," Matt laughs. "But hey! Have you met Shiro? He's dressed as Galo."

Just the mention of his name makes Keith feel hot.

"Yeah," he agrees, strangled. "We met. Briefly. Have you seen him?"

Matt jerks a thumb at the door. "At the pool with Hunk and Pidge."

Bargain.

Keith spends about half a second debating how to extract himself from their presence without being dude before Matt shoves him towards the door.

"Go get your Galo, man!" he crows.

"Shut the fuck up, Matt," Keith says, but he isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It's cold outside, a stark change from inside. Winter is on its way and Keith wishes his leather jacket was thicker to ward off the chill.

He spots Pidge immediately and wanders over. "Why are you Piglet?"

"Hello to you too, Keith," she deadpans. "But don't be rude. I'm Pua."

"Cute," Keith says, dodging the punch to his shoulder. "Hey!"

He ducks from the second strike, fully prepared to tickle her back when he collides with a wall of muscle.

"Whoa," the person says, and Keith would recognise that voice /anywhere/. "Easy."

Hands grab his waist.

Keith does /not/ melt. Instead he gets his footing back and coughs out a quick apology. Everything about his Galo is big, even his hands.

"What took you idiots so long?" Pidge complains, burrowing closer to Hunk.

"Sorry," Hunk snorts. "Shiro was busy looking for his Lio."

"He found us instead," Pidge points out, blissfully unaware of Keith's brain stumbling over the fact that his Galo was looking for /him/.

"So he did," his Galo says, eyes boring into Keith's. "Did you come to hunt me down?"

Keith shakes his head. "Not today. She liked it."

"Thought she might," his Galo says.

Keith really wants to touch that jawline of his and see if it's as much of a throne as it looks.

"Aren't you cold?" Pidge says, interrupting Keith's inappropriate thoughts.

"Yeah, aren't you?" Hunk parrots. "It's definitely hard being Maui."

Well, he's got enough Samoan tattoos in the first place that the costume isn't really ruined by the sweater he's wearing.

"Kind of," Keith says. "Didn't anticipate being outside, that's all."

"You're saying the leather is just for the aesthetic?" Pidge says.

"Basically."

"You're cold?" his Galo says, concern in his voice.

He's moving before Keith can stop him, taking his jacket off and folding it over Keith's shoulders instead.

Keith feels like he's as red as the jacket. "Um. Thanks?"

"No problem. I'm Shiro, by the way."

Keith nods. "I know."

He's about to say that Allura told him, not that he's some creepy Facebook stalker, except Shiro's face goes pink again, and he's smiling at Keith like before, and damn, that warms him far quicker than the jacket he's currently wrapped in.

"I'm Keith."

"Keith," Shiro repeats.

Keith really, really, /really/ likes how Shiro says his name, like it's something special. He's totally overthinking all of this.

"You make a good Lio," he says.

"You make a good Galo."

"Even with the arm?"

Keith really wants to die. "Sorry."

"It's funny," Shiro assures him.

"You think so?"

Shiro's laugh is nice, like the rest of him, and Keith wraps himself up tighter in the jacket, wanting to drown in the smell of Shiro's cologne.

"Yeah."

"Hey," Hunk says, and shit, Keith had completely forgotten about those two. "We're uh, gonna head inside."

They leave, and then it's just the two of them. Shiro must be cold, his left arm exposed to the elements, thin shirt stretched almost obscenely over his chest. He really does make a good Galo.

"Aren't you cold?" Keith asks.

"Is this my cue to add some cheesy pick up line?"

"Something about your burning firefighter's soul?" Keith offers.

"You reckon it'd work?"

Honestly, Shiro could read a shopping list and it would work for Keith. "Probably."

Shiro pauses, then shifts closer. "Do I need one?"

Keith's heart stops. "No."

Shiro's smile meets his.

It's barely ten minutes later and Keith feels like he's burning alive. Shiro has him pressed flush against him with one hand across Keith's back, the other cupping his face and tilting Keith's head the way he wants as they kiss.

Keith could die happily here, he really could.

He thinks he just might, with the way Shiro's arm tightens and hauls him up further. Keith isn't weak, he could totally lift Shiro too, but there's something that makes him feel a little drunk with the way Shiro so easily pulls him up to his tiptoes with one arm.

"You're something else," Shiro murmurs, eyes dark as he traces Keith's mouth with his thumb. "I saw you the moment you walked in."

"Because of the Lio get up?" Keith snorts, bashful.

"That helped, too," Shiro says. "But no, Pidge talks about you. I saw you in one of her posts."

Whereas he was cold before, now Keith is stupidly warm, from the alcohol, the jacket, Shiro's warm body against his, his words.

"I mean, I didn't even see your costume at first," he admits.

If Shiro's smile was a drug, then Keith is a wholehearted addict.

"Where are you staying?" Shiro asks him, tugging on a lock of Keith's hair.

"Uh, my place?"

Shiro tilts his head. "I'm staying here tonight."

It's an offer if Keith wants, a conversation topic if he doesn't. He feels like he's won the lottery. "What are you waiting for then?"

Shiro kisses exactly like Keith thought he might, slow and thorough, gauging Keith's reactions and chasing after him each time he pulls away to breathe. It's a miracle they even make it to Shiro's room, considering the amount of times Keith gets stopped and kissed along the way.

Shiro falls to the bed without grace, pulling Keith down with him, and when their hips meet again, properly now, they both groan.

"Finally," Keith says, loving the way Shiro's thighs spread so easily for him.

"Agreed," Shiro mutters, smiling up at him.

Keith feels dumb.

"What shall I do with you?" Shiro says, pressing his thumb to Keith's mouth again. He likes doing that, it seems.

"Fuck me," Keith says bluntly. Another time he's going to make Shiro ride him, but all he's thought about tonight is getting fucked stupid by this six-foot-four god.

Shiro blushes bright red at that, which makes Keith's heart flip for a totally different reason. Who knew the god beneath him would be shy, too?

Shiro recovers brilliantly, sitting up and finding the buttons of Keith's shirt. "Okay then," he whispers as he undoes them. "How?"

"Like this?" he asks, getting Keith's shirt open. "Or on your hands and knees?"

Keith shivers when Shiro pushes his shirt off his shoulders, hips bucking when Shiro's hands grip his waist and pull.

"Maybe I'll fuck you on your back," Shiro says. "Make you hold your legs open."

Keith was /wrong/. Shiro isn't fucking shy at all.

"Shiro," he whimpers, goosebumps following Shiro's touch.

Shiro hums, tongue hot and wet against Keith's neck. "Cold again? You should put the jacket back on, baby. You looked so good."

"You gonna fuck me in it?" Keith teases.

"Yeah," Shiro growls, hands tight on Keith's waist as he moves Keith against the strong line of his dick straining through his firefighter pants. "Put the fucking jacket on, Keith."

Arousal coils hot and tight in Keith's core.

He does as he's told.

The way Shiro looks at him afterwards is /everything/.

"Better, sweetheart?"

"Much," Shiro says appreciatively, hands smoothing up Keith's sides before he wraps an arm around Keith's waist and flips them. "On your back," he says decisively. "I want to see your face."

Keith has a retort already formed but it never sees the light of day because Shiro's kisses are relentless then. He gets Keith's pants off in one minute, his own shirt the next, and there's something so intoxicating in the way he stretches above Keith to remove it.

So too is the way Shiro undoes the buckle of his belt and pulls it free of his pants, and Keith can only stare, lost, until a hand curls around his neck and brings him up to kiss again.

"You okay?" Shiro asks gently.

"Really okay," Keith says hurriedly. "Don't stop."

"Okay."

That's all the warning Keith gets. Shiro's pants are gone and Keith almost chokes when he sees the outline of Shiro's dick in his boxer briefs.

He's going to die and god, he wants to.

Shiro moans softly when Keith reaches down to link his fingers around his cock.

He's thick and heavy, jolting in Keith's hand as he strokes it, getting used to the feel of it. The bed dips either side of his head when Shiro plants his hands there, inhaling sharply when Keith pauses to lick his hand.

"God," he says, as if /he/ isn't the god Keith is under.

Keith can feel the power in Shiro's muscles as he rocks his hips forward, fucking Keith's fist, and he grins, tongue flicking Shiro's panting mouth.

Shiro groans at that, chasing him down into the pillows to kiss him again. The angle traps Keith's hand, but Shiro doesn't stop.

Instead he twines their fingers together and like this, his cock finally slides against Keith's, slick and hot. It's Keith's turn to moan then, a stuttered thing that vibrates against Shiro's lips, and Shiro hums in return, prosthetic hand groping Keith's ass.

"Fuck me," he says again, because each thrust feels like lightning sparks up his spine and if Shiro keeps this up then Keith is definitely going to be too impatient to wait around and he really wants to come with Shiro's dick inside him.

"Yeah, baby," Shiro answers. "I will."

It takes a minute of Shiro rifling through his bag to find lube, and then another few minutes of laughter when Shiro finds a ticklish spot and tortures Keith with it.

"Fuck you," Keith wheezes.

"Mm," Shiro says. "Maybe next time."

Keith does his best not to hyperventilate.

"Next time," he confirms.

Shiro's cheeks pinken, but in the next moment he's swallowing Keith's cock and rubbing a finger against his hole, so the rising endearment is swiftly replaced.

"/Fuck/," he curses, and god, of course Shiro's fingers are just as big as the rest of him.

His mouth is soft and wet around Keith's dick, finger coaxing the fire in Keith to the surface, and Keith slaps a hand over his mouth because he's never loud in bed and yet here he is falling apart from just Shiro's finger and mouth.

Shiro pauses to suck his thigh. "Good, baby."

Keith whimpers when Shiro withdraws, leaning up to kiss Keith's neck. "Still okay?"

"Yeah," Keith says, going for bratty but getting breathless instead when he feels Shiro's dick against his again. "Oh my god."

Shiro grins, hands folding over Keith's knees and urging them up.

"Keep them there," he says firmly, not letting go until Keith obeys and hooks his hands under his knees. "Yeah," Shiro says softly, pushing until Keith is bent in half, open and exposed before him. A thumb runs along the underside of Keith's dick. "Just like that, baby, /fuck/."

Keith isn't expecting Shiro to sit back on his haunches and rub his dick across Keith's hole like it's his God-given right, but he does, flush stretching across his nose and down his ridiculously-muscled chest as he does, and Keith loses his grip, knees knocking together.

"I told you to hold them open," Shiro murmurs.

"I told you to fuck me," Keith retorts.

Shiro chuckles, pushing Keith's knees to the side to kiss him breathless again, before saying, "I guess we both better do as we're told, huh?"

Keith does, and Shiro lines up and pushes in.

If Keith took a shot for every time he'd been wrong tonight, he'd be well on his way to blacking out. Shiro is so much bigger than Keith thought, burning Keith all the way through as his hips finally settle against Keith's ass.

"God," Shiro chokes out.

Keith can barely breathe.

The first thrust of Shiro’s hips has Keith’s eyes rolling back into his skull, unable to think of anything as Shiro's cock slides home.

“Shiro,” he gasps.

Shiro grunts in response, huge hands sliding up Keith’s sides to hold him in place as he fucks in again.

Keith likes the way Shiro’s fingers span across his sternum, the way his skin glistens.

“God, you feel good,” Shiro moans.

Keith wishes he could formulate something better than a sound he makes, but Shiro’s hips move just /so/ at that moment and he hits a /good/ spot.

Keith is only human.

“You look so good like this, baby,” Shiro murmurs, planting his hands next to Keith’s head to lean down and press kisses along Keith’s neck and mouth. “Wearing my jacket while I fuck you.”

Keith can barely keep up with Shiro's kisses, let alone his words.

The position forces Keith’s hips up and Shiro slides a hand under Keith's ass to push into him, both of them crying out when he slides deeper.

“Fuck,” Shiro hisses, biting Keith’s throat.

Keith can only whimper wordlessly in answer, gaze going unfocused with each push into him.

“Please,” he says, barely cognizant.

Shiro’s deep enough for Keith to feel him in his throat, and it’s like his last thread of control snaps at Keith’s admission, because he thrusts hard enough to shove Keith up the bed and /keeps/ thrusting, hips snapping against Keith's ass.

"Fuck," Shiro bites out, hands flying to Keith's ass cheeks to spread him as he drives his cock into Keith, thrusts going sloppy and uncoordinated. "Fuck, Keith, /fuck/—"

Keith digs his nails into Shiro's shoulder, overwhelmed, toes curling as he hides his face in Shiro's neck.

"Shiro," he whispers, voice hoarse, hips aching from being spread so wide, body on fire from the drag of Shiro's cock inside him.

"/Keith/," Shiro groans, and that's all he gets out before his hips stutter to a stop.

Shiro is beautiful, yeah, but he's a vision when he comes.

Keith barely registers Shiro pulling out and replacing his dick with his fingers, aware enough to remember that Shiro told him to keep his legs spread, body arching when Shiro’s fingers push against his prostate.

At least he was right about dying. There's no way he'll survive.

Shiro’s hands are unstoppable, his teeth are sharp against Keith’s thigh, and it’s his eyes, dark and hungry, that make the steadily burning arousal peak, flaring hot and fast within Keith and razing him to ash.

"That's it, baby," Shiro whispers, mouth open and /waiting/.

Keith has no chance of stopping himself now, but even with the knowledge of what Shiro wants, the sight of come striping across his face is almost obscene, until it /really/ is when Shiro sticks his tongue out and slaps Keith’s dick against it.

"Oh my god," Keith gasps.

When the fire is finally sated, Shiro rests his head on Keith’s thigh, face steadily reddening. “Hey."

"Hi."

"Was that okay?”

“No,” Keith snipes, unable to tear his eyes away from Shiro’s come-stained face. “It was fucking terrible, clearly.”

Shiro’s laugh echoes in his ears.

Gently, Shiro helps Keith’s knees back down to the mattress, kissing his skin apologetically before disappearing into the bathroom to clean up. Keith wishes he possessed the coordination to follow. He never wants to move again. His legs feel like jelly and his brain is mush.

“I think you ruined me,” he says when Shiro returns, warm towel in hand.

“Is that a complaint?” Shiro asks as he wipes Keith’s body, even though his smile says he knows it’s definitely not.

“God, no,” Keith says, smile widening and heart squeezing when Shiro nuzzles his cheek.

"Good," Shiro says, kissing him softly. "I'd hate to not get to ride you after /that/."

"Next time?" Keith pleads, because as much as he loves the idea of Shiro bouncing on his dick, he's been completely destroyed tonight.

Shiro grins. "I'll hunt you down if you don't."

Shiro’s jacket swamps Keith and it’s almost too hot but it smells like Shiro, like a promise of more, and Keith leans up to kiss him, knowing they're way past the point of no return now.

Love at first sight, for sure. Keith is ruined.

“Can’t wait,” he whispers.

— end —